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…

It's All in the Feet

Cumbia: Colombian type of music and dance that involves women sashaying in giant skirts while menfolk in suits swirl cowboy-esque hats. Supposedly it originates from slave courtship days, and the music is created with traditional West African instruments, including drums and a reedy sounding flute. It’s as popular as Salsa, here—and, fortunately for the resident gringas, infinitely easier.

I had the chance to experience Cumbia not once, but twice this weekend—once informally, and once in public, at a traditional dancing event.

 Friday night, found us heading to a Ruedo de Tambores—a drum circle of Cumbia music. Since the Immaculate Conception, they’ve occurred pretty much every Friday night, but this is the first we made it to. 

The “circle” itself was pretty much contained to a big intersection. Music players sat on a small round wooden platform, trading off on the drums and flutes and passing shots of aguadiente, while a small crowd rotated dancing cumbia around the platform, and an even bigger crowd watched and socialized around it. 

Since Chance had brought a small drum, he hopped onto the platform to join, confusing everyone by using his drumsticks on a small traditional drum, and we alternated Cumbia-ing around the circle and/or occupying a spot in the flow right by him.

 

How does one Cumbia? By shuffling. That’s right. That’s sort of all you have to do—take really small steps but alternate flexing your knees, so by dint of your foot movements, you get a nice butt-shake going. Don’t move your hips, I was told…it’s all in the feet! 

Traditionally this is done wearing a gigantic round skirt, so that, as a woman, you keep one hand on your hip or stretched up, while the other swirls your skirt in grand, sweeping motions. Sans skirt, you either put your hands on your hips or sort of do what you want. The men follow the movements of the skirt with their cowboy-like hat, sweeping it in front of them as though they were bowing like old-fashioned gentlemen. 

I was glad of the informal practice, because on Saturday things got real; two teachers from my school decided it was high time to expose me to Colombian dances, and invited me to an all-women Cumbia party. For this, a skirt was definitely a requirement. No problem, they said—they’d find me one.

So, three hours before the event, I was sequestered from my house and brought to Helen’s, where we proceeded to outfit ourselves in a suitable manner.

This is Helen, putting the final finishing touches on her blouse. How long does it take her to create these outfits? Oh you know, two days. A little bit of sewing here, a little bit there…

This is what we looked like in our dresses—all homemade!:

(Her apartment has a whole ROOM devoted to the costumes!)

 

And then came the event. Held at a Comfamiliar (sort of like a YMCA, but different), there was a huge conference room devoted to the dancing. In we walked to a room full of excited women of all ages. Everyone wore a ruffled, voluminous outfit, each person’s more glittery, flowered, ruffled than the last, and they spun through the room like oversized, extremely joyful butterflies.

 Feeling confident I could handle at least this situation—all women, cumbia-based dancing—I was excited to see what this was all about. Little did I know that there would be a live band, that in no way confined itself to cumbia! 

Another complication: you would think being enveloped in 10 feet of capacious fabric would make it easier to dance—or at least to hide ineptitudes. And in a way, it certainly did. And yet, a skirt introduces a whole new brand of complications. One should swish it. Or lift it. Or gracefully sweep it so that it leads your turns, or use it to compliment your shimmies…(hah). 

Fortunately, the women I was with couldn’t have been nicer. I spent most of the night trying to keep up with my 70 year old colleague and failing…who knew that a dance based on shuffling could be so exhausting! Of course, then there was trying to learn the meringue, salsa, and every other step in between.

The thing is, everything you do with your feet seems to be in double-time. I still have no idea how these steps work. When asked for advice, most women lifted their skirt and said, “like this!” Which didn’t help at all. Another colleague broke it down for me: The dances are based on four steps. Your right foot goes out, then comes back. Your left foot goes out, then comes back. You might go side to side, front, or back, but it’s always those four steps.

Couldn’t be easier, right?

Except of course, after demonstrating this slowly at first, magic proceeded to happen. Her foot started up with these little double steps. Suddenly she was skipping over the ground, her hips were shaking, and her feet were sort of a blur. Fred Astaire and Ginger come to Colombia. The four-count was lost in syncopation and double-time, and I was left doing some sort of hopping-tromping imitation. It was hopeless.

I covered my feet with my skirt, plastered a giant smile on my face, and did my best to imitate the general motions, if not the foot-work…hoping somehow good humor would make up for my lack of grace!

 Yes, that is a picture of a trannie behind me

 

With the Carnaval man--the token male attendee