Ted Griswold
The Eye Abroad
ted griswold gets soaked during carnaval.
PrintThe good people of the north-east USA would never stand for a holiday as inescapably, unavoidably and comprehensively…wet, as the 5-day celebration of Carnaval in Ecuador. Each Latin American country prides itself for its own Carnaval customs, and most include massive parades with colorful floats, lavish costumes, entire schools dedicated to samba dancing, and a clear influence from local indigenous traditions. In Ecuador, however, the most notable practices hail from a pre-colonial tradition in which the Huarangas Indians would throw flour, flowers and scented water to celebrate the second full moon of the year. Today these “games” manifest themselves as general mayhem in cities and towns nationwide where people of all ages and types take to the streets to assault their fellow citizens with water balloons, buckets, water guns, bags of flower, and espuma, a dyed foam which they spray from pressurized canisters.
My first true Carnaval experience took place during a 45-minute bus-ride from the colonial city of Cuenca to a pueblo called Gualaceo. Famous for its annual riverside holiday bash, the small industrial Gualaceo attracts bus upon overcrowded bus full of families from nearby cities and towns to eat, dance, and sing, but first and foremost to “play” Carnaval. Having arrived late to the terminal, my group of about 15 North American students and our Ecuadorian host siblings crammed into the middle aisle of the bus to make space for others who would stand with us for the windy journey through the mountains. Knowing that the H2O attacks would begin immediately when we dismounted in Gualaceo, nearly every passenger was prepared with their preferred type of water-weapon loaded and ready. In hindsight, seeing as it was a tight space full of toddlers, youth, adults and elderly folk all armed to the teeth with instruments of mischief, it seems inevitable that an incident would occur, but at the time I doubt anyone saw it coming.
It all started when an elementary school aged boy leaned over the seat in front of him with the intention of shooting his older sister, who was sitting unaware two rows ahead. Unfortunately, the shot missed and hit a young woman from our program in a seat near the unsuspecting sister. The study abroad student looked around with a vengeance to see who had taken the shot, and since I was holding my water pistol, decided to shoot me. I shot back, and when other children saw what was happening, they joined in the fight. In a matter of seconds the entire bus erupted into an all-out battle. Tufts of white, yellow, blue and red espuma floated through the air covering seats, windows and faces. An old woman in the front opened a large bag of flour and began caking it on anyone she could reach. The all-out fight lasted a good ten minutes, until finally everyone’s supply of water, espuma and flour had been discharged onto their neighbors. The inside of the bus was drenched, and covered with bubbles and flour, but not once did the bus driver attempt to stop the celebration.
At first I was offended when, while walking on the sidewalk in Gualaceo or Cuenca, a pickup truck full of kids and their parents would speed by and nail me with 5 or 6 water balloons, but soon I realized all of the soaking, spraying and flouring was a strange expression of unity. By the last day of Carnaval, when a group of men would chase me down a city block to dump buckets of water over my head, I actually felt happy to be included in the festivities.
Despite all of the strange idiosyncrasies of Carnaval in Ecuador, the most bizarre aspect for me was that people of all ages and backgrounds join in the goofiness. Grandmothers and grandchildren, city folk and townspeople all take part. I cannot think of a holiday in the United States that produces such playful interaction between strangers of various social strata. Many of our celebrations are religious or apply only to certain groups, and do not actively unite populations that are typically segregated. Carnaval started as a last chance to celebrate before Catholics began to observe Lent, a solemn period of fasting and prayer, but it has evolved into a nearly secular celebration. Many Ecuadorians do not even seem to know the semi-religious origins of the festival. When I return to the USA, I plan to show my love for my parents, friends, neighbors and relatives by ambushing them with water balloons.
26 March 2009
vol. 6, issue 7
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