Today is Shrove Tuesday, the last day before Lent. Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday. Time for a bit of a knees up before the sackcloth and ashes of Lent. No booze for forty days, no chocolate. Pancake day.
As a young person I knew about Carnival in Rio. Lots of people in feathers, well women really. In fact some of them without many feathers at all: drumming and dancing, a wild bacchanalia. I had no idea why. It was something they did in Rio. Just like mushy peas and mint sauce in Yarmouth. Years later I realised that Mardi Gras in New Orleans was something akin though, to be honest, I still associate Mardi Gras with the backdrop to the druggy scene in Easy Rider.
I was taken a bit by surprise by Carnival by the Carnaval of here. I suppose it was when we lived in Cartagena. All of a sudden there was Rio passing in front of Zara and Druni the perfume shop. Some of the feathers the women dragged behind them were so wide that they touched both sides of the narrow street. There were groups of singers too. The costumes were all a bit too much falling down trousers and squirty flowers, too slapstick, for me and the songs were incomprehensible but Spanish people roared with laughter. The funny satirical songs are called chirigotas. If they are important in Cartagena then they are absolutely enormous in Cádiz. The chirigotas are so ingrained in Spanish culture that they get a brief slot on the national news on the telly.
When we'd lived in Santa Pola I don't think I'd ever realised there was a carnival procession there, nor in Pinoso. In Ciudad Rodrigo, where we lived for a while, Carnaval was a big event but there the scantily clad women and be-sequinned and top hatted men were supplanted by bulls running through the street.
But now I know about Carnaval, at least I know it is celebrated in Spain. I know it's big in Cádiz and monstrous in Tenerife. Round here Torrevieja and Aguilas and even Cabezo de Torres celebrate Carnaval flamboyantly with big processions and often with drag queens in impossibly high heels. Somebody told me that in Jumilla the other day part of the parade showed a disinterred Franco carried high on the shoulders of bare chested soldiers. Irreverence for two Spanish legends in one! Here in Pinoso, last Saturday, we had a nice little parade without sequins and without drag queens or satirical songs but with lots of people we knew.
An old, temporarily skinnier but still flabby, red nosed, white haired Briton rambles on, at length, about things Spanish
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Showing posts with label chri. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chri. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 05, 2019
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