Carnaval

Wow. Carnaval.
I've always had a vague idea in my head of some huge celebration, but had no idea what to expect. I went to Oruro, Bolivia last weekend, home of the second largest Carnaval in South America (outdone only by Rio, in Brasil).
We arrived at our place in the bleachers on the 4 km parade route at 9:30am on Saturday, we finally left to go to bed at 3:00am on Sunday. We did not see the beginning or the end of an incredibly impressive parade that never stopped.












The Oruro Carnaval celebration is made up of around 28,000 dancers, and then add to that 10,000 musicians. The whole thing lasts 3-4 days of dancing and music and ceremony. Roughly 4% of the population of Bolivia is participating in this event and they are all dressed in amazing costumes that coincide with different traditional dances or different ethnic groups that they are representing. None of said costumes look comfortable.
Meanwhile, the folks in the bleachers and on the streets all throw water balloons at each other and spray each other with foam. They sing along with the bands and scream for 'besos' (kisses) from the dancers.

My favorite dancers were the Caporales, which are tall guys in cowboy outfits that jump a lot and swing their hats around.
But then, there were also the guys that had dead armadillos that they played as instruments. That's hot too, I guess.

I felt sorry for the osos (bears) because I can't imagine how warm it must be dancing for 5 hours in one of their suits, but they would run over and give us hugs when we screamed at them, and if they've got time for bear hugs, they must not be dying of heat stroke.

The whole parade was amazing. There was never that "float" that was really just a pickup truck with a piece of cardboard taped to the side that I have come to know from American events. Even into the wee hours of the morning, the dancers were still giving it their all and the costumes were still breathtaking. As the parade route gets dark, we were able to start to see the impressive fireworks that they had started much earlier. The dancers costumes were lit and some even breathed fire.








Reeling from just one day of festivities, in a city taxed with handling the influx of population (our group of 50 shared floor space for sleeping, and one bathroom), we headed back to Cochabamba to catch the last two days of Carnaval here.




Today is the final day of Carnaval, and it is traditional to make an offering to Pachamama (mother earth). Yesterday, Paola, my host sister, and I went to the market to buy the appropriate offerings from a lady who sells them, and also sells dried llama fetuses. Luckily, she just bought tokens and leaves, and left the dead animals where they were.
This morning was spent cleaning the house, then they called me downstairs for the ritual. They lit the offering on fire in a metal bowl and then carried it around the house, blowing smoke into each room. The smell was pungent.  My host brother took a bottle of wine and poured some into the corners of the house and along the walls(right onto the freshly cleaned floors). Then the offering was set outside the front of the house to smolder. Nothing special is said during this ordeal, and the family just continued with their everyday conversations about the weather, whether or not this was particularly good wine, etc.

Of course, in my host family, this holiday is also a huge eating event. For the final feast, today at lunch we had a traditional dish made up of beef, cornmeal, every kind of potato, and garbanzo beans. All this is served in a delicious sauce and my host mom kept telling me that I would anger Pachamama if I didn't finish everything on my plate. You would think this spirit would be happy with the wine all over the floor and the smoldering bowl outside, but I did my best. However, the human digestive system has it's limitations and when my host mom stepped out of the room, Paola and I shoveled what was left on our plates out the door to the dog.
I was as full as after an American Thanksgiving. Everyone went to sleep and I sat sucking down coca tea, which is supposedly a digestive aid. However, it is going to take more than a cup of steeped coca leaves to recover from this weekend of world class celebration.