Sunday, Feb. 26th Carnival Continues
We awoke as I expected a few times during the night to people stumbling in drunk and sober. Some to sleep, some to deposit a too-drunk friend. It was not a problem though, and our extreme tiredness and comfortable bed allowed us to sleep mostly through the night. In the morning we awoke and dressed, not quite for the same degree of protection and dirtiness, but definitely ponchos included. I sat and read in the peaceful courtyard for awhile, sitting in the intense sunshine. It was a beautiful Jamie told us of a street where some of the costumes would be sold, so we grabbed our books, and trekked off.
We found the street mentioned above accidentally and enjoyed an impromptu concert from one of the finished marching bands. We wandered the streets of Oruro, kindly much more flat than the eternal up and down of La Paz. We stumbled across a small plaza with some fruit stands, and purchased some snacks for the road. We wandered in towards the main square and to our shock found the exact same scene from the day before. LIke Saturday never happened. Packed, crazy, music and dancing. We diverted and found a small restaurant called the Gnome (with a picture of a gnome in a cauldron) and ate some breakfast food, basically a thin pancake wrapped around scrambled eggs with stuff mixed in. We decided not to head back to the square, and instead walked back to the small plaza and sat a read.
it was beautiful there. The sun was strong and a man was watering the grass with a perpetual smile on his face. Kids ran and played and sprayed each other with water, and people stared at the gringos as they meandered past. We read together and talked between passages. After a while we headed back to the hotel. We ran in to Javier (Juan-Ma's brother) and his friends there, and they insisted we come with them to the parade route. There was no denying him and we all crammed into a cab and drove to another part of the parade route. We purchased a case of beer and climbed a precarious ladder into the stands. It was mayhem like before, and after a few moments we got into the mood of carnival and began the toasting, tossing, and dancing.
I was wearing my poncho and for good reason, globos were being thrown with abandon and the sun was beginning to go down. A group of girls across the way found us a good target but their aim was off, and ours was true. The pace of the parade groups began to slacken and after much deliberation and the sun decidedly setting we went down into the parade route. Javier is the leader of our capoeira group here and we toyed with the idea of playing capoeira in the street, and after much confusion, and some walking down the route a ways we did indeed begin to play.
Our commotion attracted others and before we knew it there were people coming in and out of the knot of people we had created. Most weren't capoeiristas, rather break dancers, but it didn't matter. The revelry was the point. Music wafted and crashed, the parade surged and stalled. We grew tired and it was time to find our friends. Like a human chain Javier, his chica, Jojo and I wove our way through the parade, dancing between dancers and swerving between musicians. People in the stands whooped and hollered. We wove and dove, snuck and got stuck. After no one knows how far we found the same square we had visited before, where it was rumored, Juan-Ma and Maren and potentially others were carnivaling.
After a very tight and mostly uncomfortable search Jojo and I decided to split. Her claustrophobia and my weariness of the stench and more appalling sights of carnival proved to be the deciding factors and we faced the double bottleneck one last time to escape from the square. This was possibly the toughest of the escapes and the press of bodies was alarming and scary at times. I tried to enforce a perimeter around Jojo with my arms but it was impossible. Eventually she snuck through a hole between the stands and the cage and escaped, and i followed through the cage after her. Now, we weren't necessarily ready for bed, and I was hungry again.
We found a woman (a cholla, the word for a native woman, but not necessarily polite or accepted for everyone to use, so I use Senora) selling the most delicious smelling empenadas, or fritters, or something. A mix of batter, potato and other ingredients I could not identify. I only had a 100 Bs bill (which is $12.50, quite a hefty sum in Bolivia, enough for a day easily, unless you are purchasing objects of value or going out) so we decided to find a bar to have a last drink in relatively quite and peace (imagine going into a bar for peace and quiet!!!). The first bar we found was it, and we knew it. A Karaoke bar!
Jojo and I settled into a booth facing the dance floor and were brought drink menus. After unsuccessfully ordering two times i settled on a vodka and juice. they didn't seem to have everything on the menu which is forgivable as getting supplies up the street leading to carnival must have been difficult for days. Someone was singing but we couldn't locate them on the stage/dance floor.... they were in their seat! And then someone at the bar sang! What was this place I wondered... oh well, our song selection was in and we came up quick. It was a total eclipse of the karaoke bar. We took the stage. We swung and danced, we cavorted and missed lines on the bizarre radio rendition, and received a round of applause. It was tough leaving after that number, but I had my change and fritters were calling.
The fritters were indeed the most delicious thing I could imagine. They were warm and fresh. Filling and light. Utterly amazing and at .125 cents apiece, you can't really beat it. Why do I keep giving you all the prices.... it's a cultural potentiality. I can come here and live, eat, adventure, and enjoy myself at a cost that is manageable and sustainable on my savings for a long long time. The cost of living is low here, because of many factors, and one is quality of life. Poverty is abject here. It is mirrored in the industriousness of the people and the nation of Bolivia. The waste and excess of carnival is an engorgement of the people. A gesture of rebellion at the harshness and difficulty of life in general. You should see the things the people of this area can do with a potato! This is the land where the potato was first cultivated, and i have heard through reliable sources that some people survive on potatoes and coca leaf alone.
Jojo and I walked back to our hotel and once again fell asleep peacefully and satisfied with our carnival experience, and me, very satisfied with a full belly of delicious potato fritter.
We found the street mentioned above accidentally and enjoyed an impromptu concert from one of the finished marching bands. We wandered the streets of Oruro, kindly much more flat than the eternal up and down of La Paz. We stumbled across a small plaza with some fruit stands, and purchased some snacks for the road. We wandered in towards the main square and to our shock found the exact same scene from the day before. LIke Saturday never happened. Packed, crazy, music and dancing. We diverted and found a small restaurant called the Gnome (with a picture of a gnome in a cauldron) and ate some breakfast food, basically a thin pancake wrapped around scrambled eggs with stuff mixed in. We decided not to head back to the square, and instead walked back to the small plaza and sat a read.
it was beautiful there. The sun was strong and a man was watering the grass with a perpetual smile on his face. Kids ran and played and sprayed each other with water, and people stared at the gringos as they meandered past. We read together and talked between passages. After a while we headed back to the hotel. We ran in to Javier (Juan-Ma's brother) and his friends there, and they insisted we come with them to the parade route. There was no denying him and we all crammed into a cab and drove to another part of the parade route. We purchased a case of beer and climbed a precarious ladder into the stands. It was mayhem like before, and after a few moments we got into the mood of carnival and began the toasting, tossing, and dancing.
I was wearing my poncho and for good reason, globos were being thrown with abandon and the sun was beginning to go down. A group of girls across the way found us a good target but their aim was off, and ours was true. The pace of the parade groups began to slacken and after much deliberation and the sun decidedly setting we went down into the parade route. Javier is the leader of our capoeira group here and we toyed with the idea of playing capoeira in the street, and after much confusion, and some walking down the route a ways we did indeed begin to play.
Our commotion attracted others and before we knew it there were people coming in and out of the knot of people we had created. Most weren't capoeiristas, rather break dancers, but it didn't matter. The revelry was the point. Music wafted and crashed, the parade surged and stalled. We grew tired and it was time to find our friends. Like a human chain Javier, his chica, Jojo and I wove our way through the parade, dancing between dancers and swerving between musicians. People in the stands whooped and hollered. We wove and dove, snuck and got stuck. After no one knows how far we found the same square we had visited before, where it was rumored, Juan-Ma and Maren and potentially others were carnivaling.
After a very tight and mostly uncomfortable search Jojo and I decided to split. Her claustrophobia and my weariness of the stench and more appalling sights of carnival proved to be the deciding factors and we faced the double bottleneck one last time to escape from the square. This was possibly the toughest of the escapes and the press of bodies was alarming and scary at times. I tried to enforce a perimeter around Jojo with my arms but it was impossible. Eventually she snuck through a hole between the stands and the cage and escaped, and i followed through the cage after her. Now, we weren't necessarily ready for bed, and I was hungry again.
We found a woman (a cholla, the word for a native woman, but not necessarily polite or accepted for everyone to use, so I use Senora) selling the most delicious smelling empenadas, or fritters, or something. A mix of batter, potato and other ingredients I could not identify. I only had a 100 Bs bill (which is $12.50, quite a hefty sum in Bolivia, enough for a day easily, unless you are purchasing objects of value or going out) so we decided to find a bar to have a last drink in relatively quite and peace (imagine going into a bar for peace and quiet!!!). The first bar we found was it, and we knew it. A Karaoke bar!
Jojo and I settled into a booth facing the dance floor and were brought drink menus. After unsuccessfully ordering two times i settled on a vodka and juice. they didn't seem to have everything on the menu which is forgivable as getting supplies up the street leading to carnival must have been difficult for days. Someone was singing but we couldn't locate them on the stage/dance floor.... they were in their seat! And then someone at the bar sang! What was this place I wondered... oh well, our song selection was in and we came up quick. It was a total eclipse of the karaoke bar. We took the stage. We swung and danced, we cavorted and missed lines on the bizarre radio rendition, and received a round of applause. It was tough leaving after that number, but I had my change and fritters were calling.
The fritters were indeed the most delicious thing I could imagine. They were warm and fresh. Filling and light. Utterly amazing and at .125 cents apiece, you can't really beat it. Why do I keep giving you all the prices.... it's a cultural potentiality. I can come here and live, eat, adventure, and enjoy myself at a cost that is manageable and sustainable on my savings for a long long time. The cost of living is low here, because of many factors, and one is quality of life. Poverty is abject here. It is mirrored in the industriousness of the people and the nation of Bolivia. The waste and excess of carnival is an engorgement of the people. A gesture of rebellion at the harshness and difficulty of life in general. You should see the things the people of this area can do with a potato! This is the land where the potato was first cultivated, and i have heard through reliable sources that some people survive on potatoes and coca leaf alone.
Jojo and I walked back to our hotel and once again fell asleep peacefully and satisfied with our carnival experience, and me, very satisfied with a full belly of delicious potato fritter.
posted by Greenstigator at 10:56 AM
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