Saturday, February 25, 2006

Cumbia Circle of Death and Maizena





First of all, as covered earlier, by the crack team of reporters at FPPINTERNATIONAL.COM, maizena is corn starch, and for some reason it is to be rubbed into the faces of everyone present at carnaval. If one is lucky, when the water, beer or spuma is sprayed/poured into his/her face, it will clean some of the stuff out of his/her eyes.

Anyway, with a half dozen Carnaval options open to us for friday, we chose the Cumbia circle of death. Basically, it is the dancing in a circle around a drum band, while all sorts of stuff is sprayed and rubbed into one's face; you know, like thanksgiving at Grandma's.


Also, a case of Venezuelan rum came into our possession, just as carnaval weekend was to kick off. Karma? Fate? Hugo Chavez looking out for his North American friends? Who cares; the stuff is smooth and delicious, distilled from Hugo's belly sweat under them green fatigues, I have been told. Some people took the possession of this stuff to heart, adopting the bottles, naming them, caressing them, copulating. Keep your fingers and small children back at least two meters. (uhhh, six and a half feet)

Friday, Carnaval at school




IT'S HERE!

On thursday, at my job at the big, local bilingual school, the kids didn't so much refuse to work after lunch, but they worked on their program for the next day's Carnaval celebration at school. 3 o'clock rolled around and they informed me, "It's finally Carnaval!"

See you next wednesday, I guess.



We had school Friday, but it involved the kids taking a philosophy exam, the pre-school parade and then the high-school carnaval celebration, ending at 11:30. A tough day for everyone involved, friday. That, I guess, is a glimpse into my job.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Guacherna (pronounced: Goo-Ah-Chair-Nah)


The Guacherna is the parade a week before the big bad Full-Thottle Carnaval celebration. It is maybe the funnest one to participate in ("dance" is the term folks here use). Reasons for its coolness: It's at night. It's shorter than the others. It's a little chaotic.

One of the things that determines how enjoyable your Guacherna experiece will be is your choice of Comparsa, or the group you are in. Most costumes are very traditional. The group I was in, however, was the Disfrasate Como Quieres or literally, the "Wear whatever costume you want" comparsa, with this year's overall theme of Mythology. Do whatever you want, as long as Mythology is involved. Some of the getups I honestly did not understand, but to hell with it, I was never one to question my own lack of understanding. So a pack of five gringos found our place on 44th Ave, at 72nd, opened up the bottles of rum, and waited to dance to the Cathedral a couple hours away.

One thing most people don't consider when planning a night of drinking rum and dancing down a street for two hours in a black superhero star suit is the bathroom break reality, which suffice to say, ain't pretty. But no one was injured and no animals were harmed in the filming, so I consider it a raging success. Plus I have a cool new black suit with silver stars tearing off it to wear to job interviews and funerals.

Exciting Times



During the final push to Glory, much is missed. Downtime. Preparing for the Guacherna, what have you. The Guacherna is the next Carnaval parade, and the only one I am participating in. In anticipation of this, I designed and put together my own suit. So here I am a week ago, sewing up a storm. Yeah. Anyway, I was terrible at it, and remember almost nothing from Mrs. Childers Home-Ec classes and ultimately my friend Erica called her aunt, who sewed my suit for me.

Plus bowling with La Flaca.
Although I proved to be a terrible seamstress, I did roll ok, even though it has been six months since I have shook my shit on the lanes. As you can tell, my fashion sense is still as crisp as ever, which is more of a gift to the people, something to help them through their time of need.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Coronation weekend




Marichy is officially the queen of Barranquilla.

Friday night the Carnival Queen was coronated with much pomp and a dash of circumstance. Entering the event with a press pass under the auspices of Barranquilla Council of Guys Who Do Not Question Gringo Activities, four of us were able to get right up to the front with our pair of five hundred dollar camcorders to "report on the activities" for the free world. FppInternational Corp. has gracefully agreed to cover all expenses except beer, transportation and lost/damaged cameras.

So we got into the coronation, watched the dancers, took lotsa video, but scant pics, and found a reason to hope for the future under a new queen and the prospect of a long, fruitful reign.

The night was full of pagentry and feathers and dancing, and girls wearing little feathery little costumes and bodypaint and sparklies.

Three-quarters of our crack international journalistic team voted the night "a raging success for demonstrating the viability and necessity of the fourth estate." I was unable to cast my dissent, however, as I was in the porta-john.

Not really too much to say beyond that.