What I did for my summer vacation, pt. 2: The festival

Summer started off with Christmas.  Then New Year’s.  But it didn’t really feel like summer until January 4^th, when the proverbial circus came to town.  I had been advised by Macaracans to not even think about working in the summer until after El Festival de los Reyes Magos.  Three days after New Year’s, the normally quiet, semi-deserted streets of the town center were lined with stands alternating between junky fair food and cheap accessories.  The plaza in front of the church was decorated in flags and lights that showcased a grand stage facing the church.  The lower park was a full as it could be with fair rides and games. 

Technically, Three Kings Day, or El Día de los Reyes Magos, is January 6^th, but you could go out in Macaracas starting on the 4^th.  The nightlife for the next five days was like this: cultural presentations on the big stage in the park, two baile locations, a couple of beer gardens, and two discotecas (one indoor, one open-air sponsored by the national liquor, seco) that all raged until the wee hours of the morning.  I have several friends who zealously went out every night and weren’t to be seen emerging from their houses until three p.m. the next day. 

The wedding party makes its way to the church

the reception site

On January 6^th the real festivities started.  In the morning, the church held a mass.  At this mass every year, someone gets married in the traditional style, which means the entire wedding party is dressed in polleras and camisas tìpicas.   The attendees also dress up in typical clothes.  I broke in a shirt I got for Christmas from a teacher I had helped out during the school year (see previous entry for a picture of the mayor and I at the wedding).  After the wedding, the wedding party and guests paraded down to my neighborhood, which is where the reception took place.  We all sat down and ate very, very well.   I spent the rest of the day walking around and continually getting fed.

On the night of the sixth, the entire plaza became the stage for a reenactment of the three wise men’s journey to see the baby Jesus.  The men went around the plaza on horseback while King Herod up on stage jealously plotted to have Jesus killed.  The manger was on the other side of the plaza, and the three wise men followed a star across the park to arrive there.  All was good and right in the world.  Naturally, afterward, everyone went out dancing.

mud stomping

the casa

The morning of the seventh was by far my favorite part.  The festival includes several juntas.  A junta is the tradition of cooperating to get something done, like a rice or corn harvest. Instead of money, the participants share a hearty meal of beef soup and rice after the work is over and usually get breakfast in the morning as well.  On the morning of the seventh, two volunteers that had come to visit me and I went to the junta de embarra.  The job was to help build a house in the traditional fashion: with mud.  Work started early, squishing mud down with our bare feet and mixing in hay and water to obtain the right consistency.  Once the mud was where it was supposed to be, everyone helped carry clumps of mud on their shoulders over to a stick frame that had been constructed for the walls, while men at the walls worked on spread the mud up and over the house.  Naturally, there was music; every once in a while we’d all take a break to jump around to murga songs or dance tipico.  And the best part? No one leaves clean from a junta de embarra.  The people trying to stand around and watch were promptly swept up and thrown into the mud (one of my co-teachers from the high school was one of these people).  After all was said and done, everyone muddy and well fed, we paraded (yes, paraded.  We took the murga with us) to the river to wash off. 

dirty, tired, and about to head for a swim...

On the morning of the 9^th, which is a national day of mourning, the town dragged itself sleepily out of the festival fog, packed up the tents and the rides, and everything was as if the whole thing had never happened.  The streets were again deserted at ten p.m.  The only people out drinking were the men in the cantinas.  And the only the thing in the plaza was an empty, bare stage.